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1

Chicken Run Script

Note: This is based on the script posted at Drew's Script-o-Rama; I've tried to put in all the character

identifications and in a few places clarified the transcription. It's not 100% accurate, but it's close.

Ginger: Shush!

Bunty: I'm stuck!

Ginger: Get back.

Mrs Tweedy: Mr Tweedy? What is that chicken doing outside the fence?

Mr Tweedy: Ooh! I don't know, luv, I...

Mrs T Just deal with it. Now!

Mr Tweedy: I'll teach you to make a fool out of me.

Ginger: Ugh!

Mr Tweedy: Now let that be a lesson to the lot of you! No chicken escapes from Tweedy's farm!

Chickens: Stop! Come on! Oh!

Dogs: Huh?

Babs: Morning, Ginger. Back from holiday?

Ginger: I wasn't on holiday, Babs. I was in solitary confinement. Babs: It's nice to get a bit of time to yourself, isn't it?

Fowler: Roll call!

Come along. You'll be late for parade. Pip, pip. Quick march. Left right, left right, left right! - Come on, smarten up!

Bunty: Ow!

Fowler: Discipline! Back in my RAF days, when the senior officer called for a scramble, you'd

hop in the old crate and tally-ho! Chocks away! Bunty: Give over, you old fool! They just want to count us. Fowler: How dare you talk back to a senior ranking officer. Why, back in my RAF days... Ginger: Fowler, they're coming. Back in line.

Fowler: Right! There'll be a st

ern reprimand for you, lad. You're grounded. Atten... tion! Mac: Welcome back. Is there a new plan? I thought we tried going under. Ah, over. Right.

Ginger: How's the egg count?

Bunty: I've laid five eggs this morning. Five! Well chuffed, I was.

Ginger: Shush

Ginger: Oh, no! Edwina! Why didn't you give her some of yours? Bunty: I would have. She didn't tell me. She didn't tell anyone.

Babs: Ooh! Is Edwina off on holiday?

Ginger: We've got to get out of here.

Mac: Ginger? Are we still on?

Ginger: Oh, we're on, all right. Spread the word, Mac. Meeting tonight in hut 17. Oh!

Nick: You called? Nick and...

Fetcher: Fetcher

Nick: at your service.

Ginger: Over here. We need some more things. 2 Nick: Right you are, miss. How about this quality hand-crafted tea set? This necklace and pendant? Or this, all the rage in the fashionable chicken coops of Paris? Simply pop it on, and as the French hens say, "voilá"!

Fetcher: That is French.

Nick: That's two hats in one, miss. For parties....For weddings. Oh, madame! You look like a vision. Like a dream.

Fetcher: Like a duck.

Ginger: No, thank you. We're making this. We need these things. Can you get them? Nick: Oh...This is a big job, miss. Bigger than the others. This is gonna cost. Ginger: Same as always. One bag of seed.

Nick: You call this pay?

Fetcher: It's chicken feed.

Ginger: What else could we give you?

Nick: Eggs.

Ginger: Eggs?

Nick: Eggs.

Ginger: No. Our eggs are too valuable.

Nick: And so are we. After you, Fetcher.

Fetcher: After I what?

Nick: Move!

Mr Tweedy: Hmm!

Mrs Tweedy: and nine shillings and thruppence.

Seven and sixpence times three. Two and nine.

Fourpence ha'penny. Oh! Stupid, worthless creatures! I'm sick and tired of making minuscule profits. Hmm...Hmm! Mr Tweedy: Oh, yes. Those chickens are up to summat.

Mrs Tweedy: Quiet. I'm onto something.

Mr Tweedy: They're organised, I know it.

Mrs Tweedy: I said quiet.

Mr Tweedy: That ginger one, I reckon she's their leader. Mrs Tweedy: Mr Tweedy! I may finally have found a way to make us some real money, and what are you on about? Ridiculous notions of escaping chickens.

Mr Tweedy: B-B-But...!

Mrs Tweedy: It's all in your head, Mr Tweedy. Say it. Mr Tweedy: It's all in me head. It's all in me head.

Mrs Tweedy: You keep telling yourself that, because I don't want to hear another word about it. Is that

clear? Mr Tweedy: Yes, luv. But you know that ginger one...? Mrs Tweedy: They're chickens, you dolt! Apart from you, they're the most stupid creatures on this planet! They don't plot, they don't scheme, and they are not organised!

Ginger: Order! Order! Quiet, everyone! Settle down. I would like to call to order... Oh, please!

Fowler: Quiet there! Let's have some discipline, what, what?

Ginger: Thank you.

Fowler: In my RAF days, we had no time for unnecessary chitchat.

Ginger: Yes, thank you, Fowler.

3

Fowler: I...Right. Carry on.

Ginger: Now, I know our last escape attempt was a bit of a fiasco. But Mac and I have come up

with a brand new plan. Show 'em, Mac. Mac: Right. We tried going under the wire and that didnae work. So the plan is, we go over it. This is us, right? We get in like this, wind her up, and let her go! Fowler: Good grief! The turnip's bought it. Ginger: The farmer's coming! Operation Cover-Up!

Bunty: Whee!

Mr Tweedy: Ouch! Huh?

Mrs Tweedy: Mr Tweedy!

Mr Tweedy: Ooh! Ouch!

Mrs. Tweedy: Where are you?

Mr Tweedy: It's all in your head. It's all in your head. Ginger: Think, everyone, think. What haven't we tried yet? Babs: We haven't tried not trying to escape.

Mac: Hmm. That might work.

Ginger: What about Edwina? How many more empty nests will it take?

Bunty: It wouldn't be empty if

she'd spent more time laying, and less time escaping. Ginger: So, laying eggs all your life, then getting plucked and roasted is good enough for you?

Babs: It's a living.

Ginger: The problem is the fences aren't just round the farm, they're up here in your heads. There

is a better place out there somewhere beyond that hill. It has wide-open spaces and lots of trees. And grass. Can you imagine that? Cool, green grass.

Babs: Who feeds us?

Ginger: We feed ourselves.

Babs: Where's the farm?

Ginger: There is no farm.

Babs: Where does the farmer live?

Ginger: There is no farmer.

Babs: Is he on holiday?

Ginger: He isn't anywhere. Don't you get it? There's no egg count, no farmers, no dogs and coops and keys, and no fences!

Bunty: In all my life, I've never heard such a fantastic...load of tripe! Face the facts, ducks. The

chances of us getting out of here are a million to one.

Ginger: Then there's still a chance.

Ginger: Oh, no, oh, no! What am I doing? Who are you trying to fool? You can't lead this bunch

of...Heaven help us. Rocky: Freedo-o-o-om! Aaargh...! Whoa! Ladies and gentlemen, you've been a wonderful audience. Ouch!

Agnes: By 'eck!

Ginger: That's it! Get him inside, quickly! This is our way out of here.

Babs: We'll make posters?

Agnes: What's on the poster, Babs?

Ginger: What's "on" the poster? We'll fly out.

4 Babs: He must be very important to have his picture taken. What does he do?

Bunty: Isn't it obvious? He's a professional flying rooster. He flies around farms giving

demonstrations.

Babs: Do you suppose?

Bunty: Absolutely.

Rocky: Not in there! Get out! Got to get...Uh! Eesh! Argh! Who are you? Where am I? What's going on? Ouch! What happened to my wing?

Ginger: You took a nasty fall.

Mac: Spraining a tendon connected to the humerus. I wrapped her up.

Rocky: Was that English?

Ginger: She fixed your wing.

Babs: I made the bandage!

Bunty: I carried you in!

Agnes: I held the door open.

Rocky: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa. Back up and start from the top. Where am I? Ginger: Right. How rude of us. We're just very exci...This is a chicken farm.

Babs: And we're the chickens.

Rocky: I'm with you so far. Chicken farm, chickens. Fowler: I don't like the look of him. His eyes are too close together.

Ginger: Fowler!

Fowler: And he's a Yank!

Rocky: Easy, Pops. Cockfighting's illegal where I'm from.

Ginger: Where is that, exactly?

Rocky: A place I call the land of the free and home of the brave.

Mac: Scotland!

Rocky: No! America.

Chickens: Oooh, America!

Fowler: Poppycock! Pushy Americans. Always showing up late for every war. Overpaid, oversexed and over here!

Rocky: What's eating Grandpa?

Ginger: Don't mind him, Mr...?

Rocky: The name's Rocky. Rocky the Rhode Island Red. Rhodes for short.

Ginger: Rocky Rhodes?

Rocky: Catchy, ain't it?

Ginger: Erm, Mr Rhodes, is this you?

Rocky: Er, who wants to know?

Ginger: A group of rather desperate chickens. If it is you, then you might be the answer to our

prayers. Rocky: Then call me a miracle, doll face, because that's me.

All: Ooh!

Ginger: And what brings you to England, Mr Rhodes? Rocky: Why, all the beautiful English chicks, of course.

Bunty: Give over!

Rocky: I'm a traveller by nature. I did that barnyard thing for a while, but I couldn't really get into

it. Hi, how are you? Nope! The open road is more my style. Give me a pack on my back 5 and point me where the wind blows. You know what they call me back home? The Lone

Free Ranger.

Chickens: Ooh!

Rocky: Isn't that great?

Ginger: I knew it was possible.

Rocky: It's possible.

Ginger: I knew the answer would come. We'll fly over that fence and Mr Rhodes will show us

how. Right?

Rocky: That's... Ooh! What?! Did you say fly?

Ginger: You can teach us.

Rocky: No, I can't. Listen. Shh! You hear that? That's the open road calling my name. I have to answer. Bye.

Babs: He must have very good hearing.

Rocky: Where's the exit? This way.

Ginger: Mr Rhodes? Perhaps I didn't explain our situation properly. We lay eggs, day in and day

out, and when we can't lay any more, they kill us. Rocky: It's a cruel world, doll face. Get used to it. Ginger: Which part of "they kill us" do you not understand? Rocky: I got my own set of problems. This birdcage can't be hard to bust out of. Watch me. Ginger: It's not so hard to get one chicken out, or even two. But this is about all of us.

Rocky: All of you?

Ginger: I've been trying to tell you.

Rocky: Let me get this straight. You want to get every chicken out of here at the same time?!

Ginger: Of course.

Rocky: You're certifiable! You

can't pull off a stunt like that. Ginger: Where there's a will, there's a way. Rocky: Couldn't agree more. And I will be leaving that way.

Ginger: Mr Rhodes!

Rocky: I'm the type of guy

That likes to roam around

Ginger: So that's it! You're from the circus.

Rocky: Shh!

Ginger: You're on the run, aren't you?

Rocky: You want to keep it down? I'm trying to lay low. Ginger: I should turn you in right now.

Rocky: You wouldn't. Would you?

Ginger: Give me one reason not to.

Rocky: Because I'm... cute? What kind of crazy chick are you? Know what'll happen if he finds me?

Ginger: It's a cruel world.

Rocky: I just decided I don't like you.

Ginger: I just decided I don't care. Show us how to fly.

Rocky: With this wing?

Ginger: Teach us, then.

Rocky: No!

6

Mrs Tweedy: He's valuable, you say?

Ringmaster: Sure.

Mrs Tweedy: Get the torch.

Rocky: Listen, sister. I'm not going back to that life. I'm a Lone Free Ranger, emphasis on free. Ginger: That's what "we" want. Freedom. Fancy that. They're coming.

Rocky: Oh, no! No! They're onto me!

Ginger: Teach us to fly and we'll hide you. Rocky: And if I don't? Was your father a vulture?

Ginger: Do we have a deal?

Rocky: Time to make good on that deal, doll...

Ginger: The name is Ginger.

Rocky: Argh!

Ginger:

Comfortable?

Rocky: Not really.

Ginger: Maybe this'll help.

Rocky: Ow! Nice hideout. Ouch! I had more room in my egg. Ginger: We've held up our end of the deal. Tomorrow, you hold up yours.

Rocky: What deal?

Ginger: The flying!

Rocky: Oh, yeah. I'll teach you everything I know.

Rocky: Now, which bunk is mine?

All: Me! Here!

Fowler: Absolutely outrageous! Asking a senior officer to share his quarters, and with a non- commissioned Yank, no less! Why, back in my day, I'd never... Rocky: You weren't my first choice, either. Scoot over. Your wing's on my side of the bunk. Fowler: Your side of the bunk? The whole bunk is my side of the bunk!

Rocky: What's that smell? Is that your breath?

Fowler: Absolutely outrageous!

Rocky: So, you want to fly? Well, it ain't gonna be easy. And it ain't gonna happen overnight, either. Flying takes three things. Hard work, perseverance, and... hard work.

Fowler: You said "hard work" twice!

Rocky: Because it takes twice as much work as perseverance. Fowler: Codswallop! Cocky Yanks think they know it all. Rocky: Now the most important thing is, we have to work as a team. Which means you do everything I tell you. Right! Let's rock'n'roll! Ooh!

All: Ooh! Ooh! Ow!

Mr Tweedy: Mrs Tweedy! The chickens are...Pecking? Rocky: And left, two, three. And right, two, three. And stop right there. Oh, yeah. Down. Yeah.

Make little circles. That's it. Faster. Fa

ster. Oh, yes. Perfect. Oh, that's the spot.

Ginger: Ahem!

Rocky: Uhh....

Ginger: I thought you were going to teach us how to fly. 7

Rocky: That's what I'm doing.

Ginger: Isn't there usually some flapping involved? Rocky: Hey! Do I tell you how to lay eggs? Relax. We're making progress. Ginger: Really? I can't help feeling we're going round in circles. Rocky: Cut it out! You're making me dizzy. I think they're ready to fly now.

Ginger: Good. Because they can't walk.

Rocky: Up and at 'em, gals. Let's flap.

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